


The Brain Without a Heart

by Fasfer



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom John, Gay Sex, Johnlock - Freeform, Kitchen Sex, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Oral Sex, Smut, Top Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:59:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7043605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fasfer/pseuds/Fasfer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>No Beta.<br/>Contact Me: <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fasfer-dreams-the-impossible">Tumblr,</a> <a href="https://twitter.com/FasferMy">Twitter,</a> <a href="https://www.instagram.com/_fasfer_/?hl=en"> Instagram</a><br/></p></blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Beta.  
> Contact Me: [Tumblr,](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fasfer-dreams-the-impossible) [Twitter,](https://twitter.com/FasferMy) [ Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/_fasfer_/?hl=en)  
> 

                _The brain without the heart._ Sherlock scoffed at such a phrase as he mulled over it.

                _The brain without the heart_ , _please, a brain cannot survive without a heart_ , Sherlock said to himself while he was in his mind palace. John infuriated him sometimes, all of the time, actually. He was tired of having to dwell on the conversation they had in that shed, but Sherlock thought something different in his ‘friends’ tone that night, and his line of questioning was completely out of the usual. _Was he jealous?_

Sherlock gave a smirk; he probably was jealous. Sherlock liked to think John jealous of the lady he had. In truth, that is why Sherlock had placed it there in the first place. He knew John would be curious and do his best to sneak a peek at who Sherlock would keep close. The women would be who he saw, but if he took the photo out, underneath he would have seen a photo of himself in Military uniform.

                It was typical of John, to be curious. Sherlock knew that the moment he met him, his face wide with surprise but complete wonder and amazement at the man before him. And before John was married to that untrusting wretch of woman, he knew his late night excursions consisted over underground pubs and other men that he would have shameless sex with, before returning home to Sherlock. To be perfectly honest, Sherlock was terribly jealous of those men.

                “Sherlock?” he heard called, breaking his concentration from the mind palace, though to be honest, he was merely thinking of John and his jealous features.

                “What, John?”

                “Have you not been listening to a word I’ve just said?” John asked, a flash of anger in his voice.

                “Obviously not,” Sherlock kept his eyes closed, but he could visualize the rolling of Johns eyes and the way his mouth would slightly twitch at the corner.

                “Of course,” John huffed out, turning circles in Sherlock’s flat.

                A slight tinge of ache struck Sherlock at that moment, the sound of himself noting that it was, in fact, his flat now and only his. He recalls talking to John’s chair though John was never there. It hurt a bit, but John was now married and pursuing him would be pointless. He did still try, however.

                Sherlock had attempted to bed the man on several occasions but he was a very imperceptive man and took the gestures as awkward moments of mistake. In knowing he could no longer _really_ pursue the man, he simple found himself every few days or so heading to Inspector Lestrade’s home and they would have intercourse, but it was only that: sex. Sherlock only ever stayed long enough to put his clothes back on and ask about a current case before scampering off back to 221B in hopes of finding John there; he usually wasn’t. Sherlock didn’t have emotions; he wouldn’t allow himself to. They were boring and they got in the way of rationality and facts. Emotions were not facts. They clouded judgment. But still, John found himself caring for John, even his darkest hours when John almost didn’t marry Mary and the entire time Sherlock had been absent from his life to save him; he watched and cared, he would also watch and care, despite his better judgment.

                “What were we talking about?”

                “The case, Sherlock,” he replied slightly annoyed at him.

                “Right,” he rubbed his temples. “Tea, I want tea,” he said.

                John huffed but didn’t say no. Sherlock opened his eyes in time to see John turn and make his way to the kitchen. Sherlock left the couch and followed. He watched John approach the kettle at the stove and turn it on. Sherlock couldn’t help but cock his head sideways to get a better view of his arse as his trousers hugged tightly to it. Magnificent.

                Sherlock continued his slow trek to John. He decided in that moment, that he would attempt to get John to act on one of his attempts to bed him. John was clearly sexually frustrated with his wife always out conspiring with Sherlock’s daft brother, who indeed, was now down to two years, two months and six days. If John brushed him off, Sherlock would retreat and make up some clever excuse.

Sherlock was very clever.

Sherlock finally reached john; he was mere centimeters away. His first move was to brush his fingers along the back of his black jumper, one Mary no doubt had made for him. He pressed hard enough for his fingers to be felt but not completely noticed. John slightly shifted, but he hadn’t turned round yet, having trouble getting the stove to turn on.

Sherlock ran his finger down John’s spine causing him to shiver; he had to have known Sherlock was behind him now. Having a free hand, Sherlock placed it on John’s waist while made their clothed bodies flush with one another’s. John tensed at the sudden and surprising pressure. Sherlock wasted no time in leaned his head down to meet with the little flesh of John’s neck that peaked from his shirt and jumper. His blonde hair grazed the top of Sherlock’s lip while his bottom was successful at finding the small sliver of flesh. “Sherlock?” John asked but it whisked out to more a moan than a question or even a name.

“Sherlock,” he let out a sigh when Sherlock brushed his teeth to the bit of flesh, while pressing his hips further against John. “What are-“

“It is quite obvious, John,” Sherlock said through nips. “Don’t act so daft,” Sherlock couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“We…why…I’m married,” John shook his head when his hands found the edge of the counter.

“And aroused,” Sherlock said reaching around grabbing Johns already erect bulge.

“Sher…” Sherlock was now palming Johns erection. John cleared his throat. “Sherlock, we can’t… I’m not even…”

“Just sex John,” it hurt Sherlock to say it, ‘just sex’, but it was probably the only sure solution to getting to be with John intimately.

“Just sex?” he repeated to Sherlock.

Sherlock hummed his yes into Johns neck. “you’re clearly not being satisfied at home, so why not let me satisfy you? It is only logical,” Sherlock said.

“Just sex…” John again said. “Have you even…?”

“Yes, John,” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“But the other day…?”

“We were on a case, John. It was completely inappropriate question while on a case,” Sherlock said.

“We could be caught,” John tried protesting.

“You like the thrill, John. It’s like a war zone for you,” Sherlock turned John around now, pinning his back against the counter. Sherlock noted that the stove was still not on.

“This is wrong,” John said.

Sherlock huffed, “Shut up,” he placed a kiss to the mans’ lips, soft and experimental, testing the waters to see what would come of it.

John pressed forward, mashing their lips harder together, moaning into as Sherlock was still palming his cock through his pants.

Sherlock trailed away from John’s lips, not wanted to taste his mouth yet, saving that for another time and a much better place. So instead, he tasted his skin starting at his jaw and then up to his ear lobe; he sucked on it.

“You’re quite proficient at this,” John moaned out.

“I’m proficient at everything John,” Sherlock was not one for modesty. Modesty was boring.

Sherlock removed his hand from John’s erection and instead wrapped his arms just under his arse and picked up the smaller man, placing him softly on the counter, allowing Sherlock to step in much further, Johns erection pressing against Sherlock’s chest.

Sherlock found the edge of John’s jumper and pulled up and over his head, revealing Johns white shirt and suit jacket. Sherlock would have none of that and so the next thing to be removed was his suit jacket-it was thrown to the floor- followed by Sherlock pushing his suspenders off his shoulders.

Slipping a finger into the pants, he searched for the brim of his white shirt and untucked it. He stopped his kissing of John. He looked him in the eyes as his fair, lanky fingers began taking the buttons out of their cotton chains, revealing yet another bit of clothing. Sherlock groaned. How much fabric was it really necessary for one man to wear?

John helped with the rest of the upper body stripping, until John was left with only trousers and suspenders dangling from them. Sherlock smiled and leaned down, placing a kiss to his clavicle, sucking on the bone softly. “Sherlock,” John moaned while Sherlock’s hand found its way to Johns nipple.

He rolled it between two fingers, letting the little nub become pert and erect with pleasure. Sherlock kissed his way from Johns clavicle to his other nipple and took it into his mouth, sucking on the nub until it was hard in his mouth. Sherlock looked up to see John’s head tossed back, his hands gripping the counter tightly, causing his knuckles to go white.

After the nipples, taking his time with both of them, Sherlock moved down to the brim of John’s pants, the blasted fabric still buttoned together, his cock making it seem the fabric were to burst in any second. Luckily Sherlock reached it in time, quickly working the button undone, finding John not wearing any undergarment. “What have we here?” Sherlock said with a smile.

John blushed heavily, his tan cheeks filling with a blood colour. “I don’t like the constricting feel of...”

Sherlock couldn’t help but laugh at the man above him. He was truly a very strange and unpredictable character. He wouldn’t complain about Johns attire, it simply allowed Sherlock to get to John’s swollen cock much quicker, the head already making itself known from the opening in John’s trousers. Sherlock rubbed his thumb over the tip, pre-cum already seeping from his head. Sherlock licked his with finger and looked at John when he did.

John moaned. He curled his toes when Sherlock took his cock completely from his pants with a firm grip and wasted no time in slowly pumping him, starting at his base and back to the top. “I had no idea you were this big,” Sherlock said amazed that he was hiding such a beast in his pants.

Sherlock leaned further down, pressing a kiss to the tip. He left his lips on him, tacking in his scent and musk and cum before he flicked his tongue out. John moaned again, this time finding leverage in Sherlock’s hair with one hand. Sherlock, after his torturous teasing session on licks and kisses, took John into his mouth until his nose brushed against his pubic hair. John huffed and his eyes were closed when Sherlock looked up through his lashes at the man on the counter. It was a beautiful sight.

He began moving up and down in a torturous pace, John’s hips bucking slightly. Sherlock would have none of that and so he pressed against Johns hip roughly, keeping him pinned to the counter. “Fu…” John moaned out when Sherlock sped up, letting his hands snake into his pants and grasp at his balls, playing with them.

Sherlock took his cock from his mouth with a _pop._ He stopped long enough to move his mouth to the base of John’s cock and he licked a strip up it, the twitching and pulsing organ reacting with more twitching and pulsing. John moaned again. “I’m close,” he stammered.

“Cum for me, John,” Sherlock said taking him back into his mouth, the head making it to the back of his throat.

He came at that, the pulse was first then the twitching, then the bitter and salty taste of John’s semen spilling down his throat in waves of magnificent heat. His grip on Sherlock’s hair was much tighter now, causing a moan to form in his throat, the vibrations making John moan- yell his name into the ceiling.

Once John had finished his orgasm, Sherlock making sure he was completely done before popping him out of his mouth again. Sherlock kissed the man once more on the lips, but again just lips pressed to lips. “I’m sorry I came so quickly,” John said afterwards, rubbing the back of his neck while Sherlock handed him his jumper. “It had been a long time,” John said.

“I know,” Sherlock said.

John approached Sherlock, “Your turn,” he said taking Sherlock by the hand and making their way to Sherlock’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contact Me: [Tumblr,](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fasfer-dreams-the-impossible) [Twitter,](https://twitter.com/FasferMy) [ Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/_fasfer_/?hl=en)  
> Leave your Comments, your Kudos, and your Love!!!♥♥♥


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Beta.  
> Contact Me: [Tumblr,](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fasfer-dreams-the-impossible) [Twitter,](https://twitter.com/FasferMy) [ Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/_fasfer_/?hl=en)  
> 

The room was dark all but for the glow seeping in from the sitting room and maybe the kitchen, Sherlock couldn’t remember if the light were on or not, but he could care less. He knew his way round the room blind or not. He dared not to look over his shoulder to see if John had followed him. He had to run to his old, untouched room to grab something before coming back to Sherlock. He was behind him in no time and soon, they both had fallen onto the bed snogging and foundling one another again.

Sherlock was hard in his trousers, the uncomfortable tightness demanding to be released from its fabric cages. It was listened to, Johns fingers running over his pants, unclipping his suspenders in the process. He dared not take off his shirt yet, the glow of his body would be too much for John and he’d be hard again. John smiled when Sherlock’s prick popped out of his trousers, the tip already wet. Sherlock gave an undignified sound when John thought it best to kiss the tip, licking his lips afterwards, tasting Sherlock.

Sherlock had failed to observe the oil in John’s hand, only noticing it when John was spreading it over Sherlock’s thick cock. Sherlock was startled by this. Was John going to let him fuck him before being prepped? His question was quickly answered when John spread some on his fingers and slipped his hand behind himself.

Sherlock bucked his hips up as John straddled him, finger fucking himself. It was beautiful, the soft moans coming from John, the glowing bronze skin that demanded to be touched while I was riddled with tiny beads of sweat. John looked like he knew what he was doing and that sent a shudder through Sherlock’s flesh. Arthur wanted to fell John himself, so he reached round John and followed his arm until reaching his hand and finger. John had only one in but Sherlock would need him more stretched. So, being kind and concerned, he slipped his own finger within John. It was oiled but there was enough from John’s fingers it didn’t hurt as bad but he did wince.

“Sherlock,” he moaned when Sherlock found his prostate, the raised flesh sending John forward on Sherlock’s chest.

He added another finger, making the total three now. He scissored him as best as he could with John having his own finger within him, but they managed to get it to work and soon John was ready. Sherlock didn’t want this to end so quickly, so with a free hand, he reached down to grope Johns half-hard prick and he pumped it, once, twice, three, four times in slow motions. John tossed his head back. Sherlock sat up and pressed his lips to Johns still erect nipples, the nubs extra sensitive when Sherlock licked at them. John moaned and removed his finger and with his other hand, he wrapped his fingers into Sherlock’s hair, messing up the greased down locks letting the natural curls fall out and become wild.

John was begging him now, _to just fuck him already the bloody bastard_. Sherlock could only smirk at the writhing mess beneath him. He looked too helpless to not say yes, so Sherlock granted his wish. John was straddling him, so Sherlock was only left with removing his fingers and sitting up, wrapping his arms around Johns back while he lowered himself on Sherlock’s hard leaking prick.

Jon moaned, wincing slightly at the difference in girth from fingers to Sherlock, but it wasn’t unwanted. Johns eyes were closed while he used a hand to spread one of his cheeks wider as Sherlock slid into him. John completely sheathed Sherlock, taking him to the base, the pulsing member filling him beyond capacity, but _god_ was it delightful. Sherlock had dreamt about this for years now, always trying to imagine what sex would be like with John, what it would be like to fuck or be fucked and how it was better than the genius could imagine.

The velvety walls of John as they sucked Sherlock into him, all the way to the base, was euphoric and if he hadn’t restrained himself, he would have come then. John’s bronze body on him began to bounce softly, unsheathing Sherlock to tip, before taking a slow, languid slide back down to take him in completely. Sherlock had lean his head into John’s chest for support and just because Sherlock couldn’t get enough of John and his unique smell.

John was moaning Sherlock’s name into his hair when Sherlock started to thrust into his lover, hard and quick. John’s back muscles tensed as Sherlock quickened their speed, John’s cock hardening completely again, the member brushing against both of their chests as they bounced.

Sherlock was kissing John’s neck and collar bone, sucking at the flesh, teasing it with his teeth, marking him. He was Sherlock’s, and Sherlock was his. There was no doubt about it now, not a single one. Mary was now irrelevant and everyone Sherlock fucked, Greg, no one mattered anymore. It was just Sherlock and John, joined together in that moment of intimacy that Sherlock had yet to experience until that evening in his flat.  

But Sherlock found that there was a moment of being down in events such as that one. He was close to coming, his throbbing prick pulsating with every thurst into John. John was once again close too, Sherlock gripping the prick again and pumping it slowly. It was moments like that one, the most vulnerable moments during sex, that Sherlock found he loathed. Those were moments were filled with doubt and fear.

He was too rational to experience emotions like that, so he would simply not act on them, but still they flooded his mind. The room seemed to have fallen into a slow motion scene, and Sherlock was shown for the first time, the true fear of what he was doing, of the initial outcome. John would not divorce Mary, he couldn’t do that for her, but he seemed to love Sherlock, more than as close friends.

But there wouldn’t be more than what they are doing now. It would simply be sex, a way for them both to release and get the kick of being with another man. For Sherlock it would be more than sex, but John could never know that.

“I..I’m going to cum,” John whispered into Sherlock’s hair, breaking him from his daze.

Sherlock nodded, “Go ahead,” he said, feeling his own orgasm build as he pounded into John’s tight little hole.

John did in fact come first, the salty, hot liquid making its home on both of their flesh. When he came, he clenched around Sherlock’s cock while he squeezed him tightly, kissing his head and moaning his name into those messy locks of hair. “I love you,” he whispered after each peck. “I love you,” he said again and again and then Sherlock came.

He let his lips meet Johns in a fierce kiss as his seed spurted into John’s hole, the hot liquid seeping through somehow. Sherlock continued to thrust, riding out his orgasm until both men were left heaving and tired and spent, one laying on the other, John intertwining his fingers with Sherlock’s hair still. Sherlock realized he really did love John, and that, it was possible, that somehow, John could love him too.

***

Sherlock had mentioned his moment of doubt to John while they cleaned up. John simply smiled and took Sherlock’s hands into his own and kissed his knuckles, the action sending chills throughout his entire being. “Sherlock Holmes, I love you,” John said looking him in the eye. “I love you more than life, so don’t ever think otherwise,” John said leaning his forehead against Sherlock’s. “This, what we have here, won’t be easy, but it will be worth it,” he smiled. “It’s worth fighting for, you and me, what we have here. Don’t ever doubt that,” and then John kissed him, kissing him like Sherlock had never been kissed at all and by a god if they were real all at once.

John was right. They were worth fighting for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contact Me: [Tumblr,](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fasfer-dreams-the-impossible) [Twitter,](https://twitter.com/FasferMy) [ Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/_fasfer_/?hl=en)  
> Leave your Comments, your Kudos, and your Love!!!♥♥♥


End file.
